Stagnation
by inyourendo
Summary: Draco has been living in his own world after the war. He doesn't seem to be the only one. A sudden meeting at the black lake with a certain someone throws draco's world upside down.


Empty. Nothing. The world was a mix of black and white. The same everyday. Life after war was strangely boring. Nothing was even remotely exciting. Fake. People trying to make it seem alright when things clearly weren't. Hogwarts being rebuild into the state it was before it happened. What happened exactly. What was his part. Two years that had seemed endless. Proof lay on his left arm as a glaring memory that all that had happened was in fact real.

A sigh. A gulp. What had been his role. What will be his role. He looked outside the window. It was November. A cold and dreary night, just like all the others. Was it still worth it? He hesitated. It didn't seem worth it.

A thousand thoughts seemed to fill his mind, while his spirit was empty. It was too cramped. He felt like pulling his hair out. But he didn't. In fact he did nothing at all, just like all the other days.

What had life been like? Was he supposed to just carry on in this colorless world? He didn't remember how he was supposed to be. How one was supposed to live. He inhaled. He didn't exhale. Experimenting. For how long could he hold his breath before his lungs practically screamed for air.

One minute.

He was pathetic. _Weak_. Emotionlessy he stood up from his chair next to the window. Slowly his hands moved to open the window. Cold air and wet snow hit his face. He didn't really care. With longing he pushed his face against the freezing wind. This was the first in a really long time he really felt anything. He quickly hurried to his broom, that had been collecting dust under his bed in his private room and ran his fingers experimentally alongside the wood. It felt rough and smooth and alltogether different, but as fascinated as he was he felt a greater need to step into the grey world outside.

It seemed to suit him. He himself was pale. White blonde hair and silver eyes that hadn't expressed anything for a while. With a strange feeling he mounted his broom and somehow awkwardly flew through the window. Indescribable. It all came back. Freedom. Power. Control. Even in this dull world that didn't seem to move...He could move, feel and do. He flew to the lake, relishing the frost hugging his face and fingers. Tiny snowflakes were caught in his eyelashes and his breath was visible. Tears ran alongside his cheeks. His being was slowly filling up and his heart was going 110 miles a minute.

He landed at the edge of the lake and realized the neverending blackness of it. He also realized that he was not alone. He blinked. How long had it been since he saw another person? The figure turned around and a gasp escaped his lips. Bright green eyes stared at him, at his very soul that had slowly been coming back to life during his flight. Green eyes that were the real first splash of color in his world. Green eyes that told him that they knew. The blackhaired boy slowly walked up to him. Maybe he was afraid to ruin to moment, he didn't know. A sigh rolled over his lips. He nodded. Harry nodded back. Words weren't needed.

A silent escape. Harry's bright red jacket hurt his eyes. It seemed that just standing next to the other boy was nearly enough to make him see anything other then black and white. It quite startled him. He felt his cheeks and ears burning. He felt melted snow dripping into his eyes. He felt that he needed to take the others hand, to feel if he was real and not fake.

So he did. Nothing indicated that these were sworn school enemies. Because they really were not. Pale long fingers touched shorter calloused ones. Searching grey eyes bored into intense green ones. Harry turned around. Eyes still trained on him and hands still being hold he shouted. Face flushing with emotion and eyes brimming with unshed tears he filled the silent world with sound, with color.

He could see it. Flashing reds and yellows coming out the mouth of the boy before him. What the words said, he didn't try to comprehend. They were slowly stabbing a way to the fog that was protecting him. He hadn't heard sound in a while. But it was there and it didn't last long before Harry's words, Harry's bright powerful colors filled his spirit to the edge. It also didn't take long for it to spill. Words that he might or might not have known rolled over his lips. And together, on that dreary night in November, they moved the world while desperately holding on to each other.


End file.
